Teachers are a big motivator for a child to do well in school because many students want to please their teacher. However, it is those teachers who are filled with such passion that as a result, students take their lessons outside of school and use it in a way that is beneficial for them. For me, my most important lesson I used outside of school, was the ability to write. Mr. Tracy taught me that through writing, I had freedom to write anything I could think of, which expanded my idea of writing. I became infatuated with the idea of endless possibilities and the ability to use my cleverness to create an interesting story line. This new found love of writing carried me through my high school years by releasing emotions into words so as to not keep them bottled up and allowing others to connect with my experiences as well.
Mr. Tracy was my eighth English teacher who assigned the entire class to write a short story which sparked my love of writing. He did not limit us too much on what we could write, only that the story had to be between five and ten pages and nothing extremely inappropriate. My imagination began soaring with all the ideas I could write about because I was overwhelmed by all of my options. However, I became consumed with one idea, a mystery crime solving story. From the moment I was sure of this idea, I knew it had to be original. I knew there would not be a point in writing my story if it was not original and the resolution could not be obvious. In order for that to happen, a small clue to connect the criminal to the crime. When Mr. Tracy said I had one of the best papers in the class. He read my story aloud to the class which gave me reassurance that I did do well since everyone seemed like they really enjoyed it. Knowing my writing had just blossomed, made me want to write even more.
My love for writing carried over into high school where I took every opportunity I could to write in a way that was interesting to read, yet was fun for me to write. In English class when we had to write essays I would always try to find something to write about that I knew I would be interested in. I would try to fall in love with the idea I was writing about. I knew that if I had to write an essay, why not make it something I was interested in and if I was interested in it, chances are, so would the reader.
Eventually I utilized my writing skills and used them outside of the classroom. Writing became a therapeutic process. Whenever I was upset or confused about my emotions I would write poems; everything became clear to me then. Writing made me clear my mind and organize my thoughts. Sometimes my thoughts were so extensive, a poem would not suffice. The amount that was on my mind made me uncertain of what my poems should be about. So I began to write as thoughts came to me, letting it all flood onto the page at once. If I felt that I had not exhausted myself enough, I would pick out what I thought was most troubling me afterwards and write a poem off of that one idea.
Yet my writing evolved again into a piece of artwork that I wanted everyone who read it to feel what I felt. My writing became much more abstract and mature compared to what I had previously written. I would write a poem as a metaphor for how I felt or what I was going through; the meaning of the poem not as obvious but the emotion was prevalent. I began seeing inspiration in everything, everyone and I wanted to make people connect to what I was writing. I wanted to write in a way that when someone would read it they would feel exactly as I felt when writing the poem. I began to understand how important it is to choose the right word and specifically articulate so that while someone was reading it, they could make a connection to an experience they had and attach the emotion they read about in my poems to it. In the very least, I wanted to make them understand the beauty writing can capture.
My writing evolved from clever plot lines into the betterment of me but then for others as well. I want the audience to become intrigued with my work and connect to it, not be confined to the rules my teachers have set in stone for me. My creativity allowed myself to make essays fun to write and as an emotional outlet. Writing meant more knowing I am able to connect and touch other people. I want others to understand the power writing can have and know that no one is alone.
Mr. Tracy was my eighth English teacher who assigned the entire class to write a short story which sparked my love of writing. He did not limit us too much on what we could write, only that the story had to be between five and ten pages and nothing extremely inappropriate. My imagination began soaring with all the ideas I could write about because I was overwhelmed by all of my options. However, I became consumed with one idea, a mystery crime solving story. From the moment I was sure of this idea, I knew it had to be original. I knew there would not be a point in writing my story if it was not original and the resolution could not be obvious. In order for that to happen, a small clue to connect the criminal to the crime. When Mr. Tracy said I had one of the best papers in the class. He read my story aloud to the class which gave me reassurance that I did do well since everyone seemed like they really enjoyed it. Knowing my writing had just blossomed, made me want to write even more.
My love for writing carried over into high school where I took every opportunity I could to write in a way that was interesting to read, yet was fun for me to write. In English class when we had to write essays I would always try to find something to write about that I knew I would be interested in. I would try to fall in love with the idea I was writing about. I knew that if I had to write an essay, why not make it something I was interested in and if I was interested in it, chances are, so would the reader.
Eventually I utilized my writing skills and used them outside of the classroom. Writing became a therapeutic process. Whenever I was upset or confused about my emotions I would write poems; everything became clear to me then. Writing made me clear my mind and organize my thoughts. Sometimes my thoughts were so extensive, a poem would not suffice. The amount that was on my mind made me uncertain of what my poems should be about. So I began to write as thoughts came to me, letting it all flood onto the page at once. If I felt that I had not exhausted myself enough, I would pick out what I thought was most troubling me afterwards and write a poem off of that one idea.
Yet my writing evolved again into a piece of artwork that I wanted everyone who read it to feel what I felt. My writing became much more abstract and mature compared to what I had previously written. I would write a poem as a metaphor for how I felt or what I was going through; the meaning of the poem not as obvious but the emotion was prevalent. I began seeing inspiration in everything, everyone and I wanted to make people connect to what I was writing. I wanted to write in a way that when someone would read it they would feel exactly as I felt when writing the poem. I began to understand how important it is to choose the right word and specifically articulate so that while someone was reading it, they could make a connection to an experience they had and attach the emotion they read about in my poems to it. In the very least, I wanted to make them understand the beauty writing can capture.
My writing evolved from clever plot lines into the betterment of me but then for others as well. I want the audience to become intrigued with my work and connect to it, not be confined to the rules my teachers have set in stone for me. My creativity allowed myself to make essays fun to write and as an emotional outlet. Writing meant more knowing I am able to connect and touch other people. I want others to understand the power writing can have and know that no one is alone.